


breaking the silence

by sanetoshiapologist



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Mute!CC, Muteness, Prostitution, Silence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanetoshiapologist/pseuds/sanetoshiapologist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her mother had been beautiful once. Or at least that’s what everyone said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	breaking the silence

Her mother had been beautiful once. Or at least that’s what everyone said. 

But the young girl had a hard time believing it. Her grassy hair was choppy and uneven, and hung in her face like a very stringy curtain. Her body was frail, arms and legs unbearably skinny, face gaunt and wrinkled.

But it was her eyes that terrified the girl the most. A gorgeous amber hue, but they lacked any sort of humane glint, dark and like pools of lifelessness. It gave the girl the feeling that if she looked into her mother’s eyes for very long, she would fall into those terrifying eyes, spiraling down a bottomless pit of emptiness.

So the girl did her best to avoid her mother. But it wasn’t like that was a challenge or anything. She was a prostitute in the slums, and spent most of her time “working”. The girl wondered why her mother gave up her body when she could have just given those twisted, crotchety old men hers.

Every once in awhile, those tall, intimidating, seemingly faceless men would come into their house. She would hide under her bed, covering her ears and squeezing her eyes shut, praying frantically to god. But no matter what nook or cranny she hid in, tucking her legs into her chest, she would never escape those horrible sounds.

A loud crash that meant some dish had shattered. A piercing scream, from her mother no doubt.

But one day, one of them found her. He opened up the closet and found her trembling inside, sobs wracking her skinny, malnourished body. But no tears could ever come out.

He was a fairly handsome man, with broad shoulders, spiked chocolate brown hair, and a lopsided grin. His voice was as smooth as velvet, with a soft lilt to it. He invited her to sit in his lap, running his fingers through her tangled locks and whispering in that calming voice that she was beautiful.

And for a long time, she believed him. 

Then he started to touch her. Slipping a smooth hand under her frayed blouse and groping the outline of her barely-developed breasts, sneaking a hand in between her legs and lightly rubbing the sensitive skin of her thighs. She squirmed and knew that he shouldn’t have been allowed to touch her to intimately, but she was enchanted by his words, bewitched by the spell his flowing compliments casted. 

One morning, she realized that she didn’t have a voice. Moving her lips wordlessly, not even a whisper of a sound came out. Monologues and sentences and phrases and words sat on the tip of her tongue. Protests, screams, thank-yous, hellos, good-byes...words that would never soar. Sounds that would never pierce the air and be heard and understood and acknowledged.

She couldn’t stand it anymore. Couldn’t stand that undeniably dirty feeling of him touching her in places that she knew no one should ever touch. And when he was finally gone, his fondling and compliments merely an imprint in her mind, she runs outside into the sunshine.

She had forgotten how beautiful it was. The sun casting light on the green leaves of the trees, birds singing merrily, perched on the branches. The sky was a gorgeous blue, a couple of hazy clouds floating in the distance. A breeze tousled her hair.

The girl ran into the thicket next to her shack. Her feet were dirtied up by the soil on the ground, but she just didn’t care. Nothing could have been worse than the feeling of being touched by that man. She realized that she didn’t even know his name. The same way she didn’t know her own.

She almost tripped over several tree roots, running and running, seemingly invincible to exhaustion. But finally, she stops in the middle of a clearing. 

The sun barely peeped through the thick rooftop created by the crisscrossing branches of trees. A stream snaked by, and she fell to her feet, using her grimy hands to cup the water. She drank it hungrily, gulping handful after handful. But it just felt so good, to have some of the dirt washed off her disgusting body.

“Hello?”

She turned around, shocked to see a little boy about her age standing near her. His ebony hair was slightly disheveled, violet eyes round and captivating. And filled with life. So unlike her mother’s. He wore a beige tunic, short trousers, and leather boots. Must have been decently wealthy.

The girl backed away. He approached her, seemingly oblivious to her fear. He smiled, a dimple appearing on his cheek. “What’s your name? I’m Lelouch! Lelouch Lamperouge.”

She scrambled to her feet, but before she could move, he grabbed her wrist. “Hey, where do you think you’re going? I asked you a question, didn’t I?” 

The girl let out a strangled cough, spitting up a mouthful of blood. She doubled over. The boy’s eyes widened in concern, and he bent down besides her. “Hey, are you alright?”

She scowled at him, wiping the blood off on her sleeve and hissing in a hoarse voice, “Get away from me.” She tried to shove him off of her, not even caring that it had been the first time she had spoken in months. All she wanted was for him to leave, to leave her alone in this beautiful sanctuary. To get his filthy hands off of her.

The last thing she wanted to feel was the touch of a man.

“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you,” Lelouch insisted, tentatively letting go of her wrist.“Stop struggling. I just want to know who you are and where you’re from. You look sick, so I thought that I could lend a hand.” He smiled at her patiently. “So what’s your name?”

I...” She faltered. “I don’t have one.”

He frowned. “That’s strange. No name? I’d better think of one then...” He pondered this deeply, before his face lit up and he snapped his fingers. “How do you like Elizabeth?”

She struggled to sound the name out. “E...li...za...beth?” The sounds rolled around her foreign mouth like marbles. 

“Yes. Do you like it?” He leaned forward. When she nodded slowly, he beamed. She gave him a confused look, unable to figure out what about this made him so happy.

“So, Elizabeth. Want to meet my mother? She would be happy to have you. My father is a doctor, so we could have you looked at quickly. They’ve always wanted a daughter, but they’re too old to have another kid, so...we could take you in!” he offered, eyes shining. “How would you like that, Elizabeth?”

The newly-named girl thought about this. A new home? New parents? People who wouldn’t touch her in places she didn’t want to be touched? A chance to run away from those pools of darkness?

She nodded. He beamed, taking her hand into his and gesturing towards the path in front of him.

As he led her through the path, his hand never letting go of hers, she took a moment to glance back. Their shack, her prison was already concealed by the trees, never to be seen again. The seemingly endless days of suffering and pain and torture would be washed away by the gentle hand of time and happy memories.

It was the beginning of a new life. The first step in breaking the silence.


End file.
